In the past few days, I have volunteered for the Obama Campaign in Northern Virginia. On Saturday, Shirley, Kevin, and I knocked on doors in order to contact voters and convince them to vote. We were given packs with names of voters who were identified as sporadic voters--meaning that they were registered Democrats who had voted in only a few of the most recent elections. Our goal was to knock on their door, make some human contact, and talk to them about Barack Obama. We got started at about 10 in the morning and worked something like 120-150 doors, finishing up in the early evening. Shirley and I did the same thing on Sunday, working for about four hours.
Shirley and I planned to do get out the vote work for the campaign on Election Day, and so I tried to plan ahead the night before. I bought some water and granola bars, and a new umbrella because it was supposed to rain. I picked Shirley up at the East Falls Church metro station at about 8:30 in the morning and we went straight to the staging location for the GOTV work. What they wanted us to do was very simlar to the work we had done over the weekend. We were given a packet with names and addresses of likely Obama voters, and we were to knock on their door, ask if they had voted, tell them how to get to their polling place, and, if necessary, help them get a ride to the polls. Then we were to do it again with the same list before going back to get a different packet.
The first packet was in a fairly typical middle class neighborhood. The polling location was an elementary school within walking distance of every door we knocked on. The houses in the neighborhood were strange. It was obviously an older development put together by a single builder. All the homes were similar rectangular boxes with an overhanging second story above the front door and a roofline that sloped away from the front of the house. Square and angluar. The houses were also set at odd angles to the street. Very few were perfectly square to the street--several were set at 30, 60, and 90 degrees to the street.
About a third of the voters we were told to contact had already voted. We marked them off the list. If someone wasn't home, we left a door hanger with the address for the polling place at the elementary school. If they were home, we told them to go vote, and that the middle of the day was a good time because lines were short. I spoke with a 72 year old woman named Sima who had already voted, a 30 year old black man who said he was on his way, and a 52 year old white woman named Constance who also promised she was about to go.
On the second pass, Shirley and I switched houses so that we wouldn't talk to the same people twice. We didn't need to speak to Sima again. The 30 year old again promised he was about to go, but wondered to Shirley if this constituted harrassment. This became another tool for the day. When we got to our second packet, I started telling people who were home that if they didn't go vote, we would just keep knocking on their door. Shirley spoke to Constance on the second pass, and about a minute after leaving the front porch, Constance left her house to walk up to the school and vote.
Our second packet was in a group of rental townhouses. The complex was horribly confusing because the houses weren't numbered sequentially. Houses set in a row would randomly jump 10 numbers. But we got back to business knocking on doors. A lot of people weren't home--at work certainly--and they got the door hanger. But I still spoke with several people who were going to vote later in the day. There was a woman who had already voted, another who was asleep (according to her granddaughter who answered the door), and a woman who was voting for McCain (according to the shirtless man who answered the door).
But there was also a man named Joseph who had just two months ago received his citizenship. He registered to vote at the same time, but he was concerned that he wouldn't be able to vote because he changed his name on his citizenship papers. He was worried that his name wouldn't match the name in the voter registration list. I told him to take his citizenship papers with him when he went to vote and that he would be able to cast a provisional ballot in any case. On the second pass, he had put an "I Voted" sticker on his front door--probably to keep us from knocking again.
And there was a family of Muslim immigrants--two women answered the door, both covered. One told Shirley that the family was going to vote in the afternoon when the father came home. And two brothers named Hernandez who weren't there on the second pass. Hopefully, they had gone to vote. This fairly well established the pattern for the day. We were largely speaking with immigrants and lower class and lower middle class voters. It seemed to be effective.
Over the course of the day, we did 5 or 6 packets. One was in some very cheap apartments, and one was in some very nice townhouses. The process was the same everywhere we went. Around 12:30, we stopped back at the staging area to get a new packet and were offered lunch. I had a "sandwich" made of three slices of cheese between two slices of bread. The sandwich, the granola bars, and the tootsie pops at the staging area kept me going through the day.
For what it's worth, "staging area" makes it sound much more formal that it was. The staging area was just a local Democrat's house. I learned later in the evening that his first name was Spence, but throughout the day, Shirley and I were just trapsing in and out of his house freely without really having met him before. Spence is a middle aged white guy who married a Japanese woman. Their house was set off a major road in a heavily wooded neighborhood of large old houses. The trees in the neighborhood were bright yellow and red and orange. Spence's house was decorated with traditional Japanese paintings and an ancient set of the Encyclopedia Britannica.
At the house, Spence was assisted by a woman named Sarah with wavy blonde hair and another woman with short dark hair. Sarah had taken two weeks vacation in order to volunteer for the campaign but wasn't going to be to make it back to her D.C. apartment in time to cast her absentee ballot. (It was ok--Obama won D.C. with 92% of the vote) The other woman hadn't slept in two days. They kept it running though.
During our lunch, we spoke with a retired teacher who was doing his own best to help elect Obama. He was a large man--at least six foot five, and with white hair. But other than the hair, he was very youthful. He told us that about a third of his union was for McCain, and that a lot of kids were home because Virginia schools always take the first Monday and Tuesday in November off in order to allow teachers to catch up on grading and to hold parent-teacher conferences.
At about 4 p.m. Shirley and I were both feeling a little frustrated. The number of contacts you make doing this sort of door-to-door knocking is actually relatively low since many people are working during the day and others simply want you to go away. So, we asked Spence where we could get a quick beer. He recommended a nearby biker bar called the Sunset Grille, and that's where we went.
It was a small bar--just four or five tables, the bar, and a small platform for bands to play on. There were two guys talking football inside the door and another couple sidled close to the bar and sitting quietly. Two women were serving beers. We sat at the corner of the bar and ordered a couple Yuengling Lagers. There was a short menu written on a board on the wall. Ribs and something with crab and stuffed jalapenos. Stickers on the bar complained of Jane Fonda's treason. The jukebox played Jethro Tull and The Grateful Dead and Tom Petty.
The other people at the bar talked about voting. Two of the men had "I voted" stickers on their chest. One of the bartenders said how she loved voting; that it made her feel powerful, and she flexed her arms as she did this. She said she voted at the high school she attended.
We read Dana Milbank's damning article of McCain's last day on the campaign trail and tried to do the Post's campaign quiz. We talked with one of the bartenders and another patron about the Wonder Twins. We finished our beers and headed back to the house for one more packet.
After our last packet, we were supposed to go to a precinct and see if we could help hand out snacks and drinks to people in line. It was going to be dark and so they gave us little flashlights. We headed back to the confusing townhouses we hit on our second packet. It wasn't the same set of houses, but it was still confusing. We did one pass, and since it was getting later, we waited for 20 minutes before doing our second pass hoping that some people would come home from work. We did our last pass at 6 pm, an hour before the polls closed, but nothing had changed.
It was now dark and misting. It had rained some during the day, but not enough to keep anyone from going to the polls. We drove to Jefferson High School--the polling location for our last packet. I got lost on the way, but after driving around a bit, we found it. We walked up to see if they needed any help, but there wasn't any line. The Democratic Precinct Captain was handing out sample ballots to voters who were intermittently straggling in. Every time someone took one, the Republican precinct captain would rush over and offer a Republican sample ballot.
They didn't need our help, so we tried to contact Sarah and then the campaign office. Eventually we were told there weren't any lines anywhere, and so we could either go randomly knock on doors or go home. We had already planned to go to some friends' house in order to watch the returns so we stopped at Popeyes for a quick dinner and at Giant for some beer and champagne.
We were going to a house where several people live. Most of them are former Peace Corps volunteers whom we sort of accidentally met a few weeks back. One of them is a friend of a friend of Shirley. A few weeks back we went apple picking with them and had a good day. At the house were Conor, Maeve, Josh, Paulo, John, and a few other people whose names I can't recall. Shirley and I brought in the beer but left the champagne in the car so as not to jinx the election.
Maeve had planned games including a Jeopardy style quiz and pin the lipstick on the pitbull. My team lost Jeopardy narrowly even though we gave correct answers--it was stolen. Conor and Josh cheated at pin the tail on the pitbull. We drank a little and watched the returns come in.
On the ride to the house, Shirley and I were listening to NPR's coverage and the reporter at the Republican watch party in Ohio was not impressed. She noted that it couldn't really be called a party since no one was there, and that the Republicans weren't expecting to win the state based on the early returns and the exit polls. Sure enough within an hour of us arriving at Maeve's house, the networks called Ohio for Obama. That pretty much sealed the election, but of course it's not over until someone reaches 270.
By 10:30, they had called Virginia for Obama, giving him a total of 220 electoral votes. Fox News seemed to be calling everything earlier than the other channels. With 220 EVs, the game was pretty much over. Shirley and I retrieved the champagne from the car. I went out in my socks because I couldn't get my shoes on fast enough. The ground was wet and when we came back in, I had to take my socks off.
The champagne was sneakily put in the fridge, but 11 pm was coming up and with it the closure of the polls on the West coast. We could see what was coming. NBC ran a countdown to the next poll closings, and we started shouting the seconds out: 10! 9! 8! . . . With California, Washington, and Oregon immediately being called for Obama, he was up to 297 electoral votes and the game was over. NBC's coverage simply went immediately to the projection that Barack Obama would be elected president without even mentioning CA, WA, and OR. We cheered. People hugged and jumped and screamed. I popped the cork on the champagne and poured some for everyone. We toasted and drank.
Outside there were fireworks a couple blocks over. We went outside to look and listen. In the distance to the south we could hear faint cheering. NBC had given some time to the local affiliate who showed video of people dancing at 14th and U--on the sidewalk and on top of a bus stop shelter. They should video of the growing crowd at the White House. That was the place to be, and we gathered our coats and shoes. Before we could leave, McCain came to the stage to give his concession speech. We all stood silently and listened to him graciously admit defeat.
We started at roughly 10th St. NW and Monroe Ave NW. The walk to the White House would end up being 2.5 miles. As we walked South, there was intermittent cheering and some cars honking their horns. At 14th and U, hundreds of people were in the street. The police began to cut car traffic off between 14th and 16th. We got there just before Obama took the stage in Chicago. We stood outside a bar and watched a TV that had been turned outward. We couldn't hear anything, but the closed captioning was turned on.
As Obama was speaking, it began to rain. The first real heavy rain of the day. Some in the crowd had umbrellas, but I had left mine in the car. We were all drenched, but we still watched and cheered. The rain glowed orange in the streetlights as it fell on us.
After the speech, we continued South on 16th street. For a while we walked with a man and talked a little about what this win was going to mean. Barack made the point: this is a chance to make a difference, and it's not over yet. There is a lot of work to be done. More and more people were going south--all towards the White House. We met another large group at Rhode Island Avenue. A man ran up to Shirley and me and gave us a bear hug. He exclaimed, "You're wet!"
More and more people. Some with Obama signs. Some with hats and shirts. More and more cars honking their horns. Constant cheers from the marchers. Some chants of "Yes we can!" and "O-ba-ma!" Our route took us past the Republican National Committee Headquarters. Some apparent Republicans stood outside dejected. At one point, a man with the flag tied around his neck like a cape rode by on a bicycle.
At Lafayette Square, there was a fence and barrier keeping people from crowding directly south onto Pennsylvania Avenue. It's not clear if that barrier was part of a construction project or was put up by the police to control the crowd. In order to get around in front of the White House, we had to walk around to the side. The crowd was amazing. Happy and excited. Nothing angry. Nothing violent. Just joyous and celebrating.
One group of people was involved in a call and response of "Whose house?" "Obama's House!" And the standard goodbye chants. Shirley said she heard people chanting "Move Bush, get out the way. Get out the way, Bush, get out the way!" (Think Ludacris if you don't catch the rhythm) I saw some people singing American the Beautiful. Mostly people chanted "O-ba-ma!" and "Yes we can!" and the now appropriate "Yes we did!" One woman was giving "Obama hugs" to everyone she saw.
After a while, Shirley and I began the 2.5 mile trek back to my car which I had left at Maeve's house. We had lost everyone else at this point, but it didn't matter. Everyone in the area was cheering and chanting and screaming. People walked in the street and hung out of cars. High-fives were ubiquitous.
_________________________Saturday. Didn't make it to the end before I had to stop.
On our way back to the car, a man with a slight European accent walked beside us for some time. I couldn't really place his accent, but we talked about the inauguration. He expressed some fear that Obama might not make it that far--that he might be assassinated. I really don't think that is going to happen. I'm not afraid of that. I'm not afraid of much right now. He talked about Bush's inauguration, and how the inauguration is as much for the incoming president as it is for the outgoing president. He said that in 2000, the commentators and pundits summed up Clinton's presidency as good but not great; that there had been so much promise at the start of Clinton's terms and he never really lived up to the expectations. He wonders what could possibly be said about Bush's terms in office as he leaves?
We continued our trek back to the car with less celebrations we got farther north. Fewer and fewer horns. At one point, four men on the other side of the street were spontaneously stepping.
I drove Shirley home and we listened to coverage from NPR and the BBC on WAMU. When we left the house to walk to the White House, we knew that Obama had 333 EVs--Florida had been called, but that was all. The radio wasn't giving any more details about states; just talking about how he won and what it meant. It was a little frustrating.
After dropping Shirley off, I drove home, and got back at about 3:30 am. I parked my car outside because I lost my card for the garage. Walking back to my building, my legs had already started to stiffen up. I hobbled along. Inside I read some more news and tried to reset my alarm for 8 am so I could sleep in a bit. It was about this time that I noticed my shoes are now different colors. They were the same color at the start of the day, but not anymore. They're not wet. They're not dirty. Just different colors.
It didn't work. My alarm woke me up at 6. And I got up. I wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep. So, I cleaned up and went down to Starbucks for a coffee and some breakfast. I bought a copy of the Times and the Post. I'm glad I did. Later in the day, every paper in the city was sold out.
The entire day I was physically exhausted, but it wasn't a bad thing. There is a pleasure that comes with exhaustion. It removes a lot of concerns and worries and leaves me with a feeling of balance and confidence.
Balance and confidence.
